Vicious Cycles and Behavioural Slums: Serena van der Woodsen Edition
by Misrepresented
Summary: Marriage to Dan was a romantic notion once. Merely 7 months after their wedding Serena is alone in Tokyo under the pretences of an international tour for the release of her juicy tell all. In truth she harbours a secret, one that ensures the end of her relationship with Dan. And the one man she has trusted with everything is once more the only one she confides in. Serena/Carter


Disclaimer: Gossip Girl doesn't belong to me.

A/N: The events of this fic occur seven months following Serena and Dan's wedding.

* * *

Fifty floors up in a penthouse suite decorated for mass appeal, Serena van der Woodsen lounged on a cold window seat and watched the glittering city below. She was certain there was nothing that made her lonelier than Tokyo at night and reviled the whim that led her there following events she would rather not ponder on.

She supposed it didn't matter. She would not be alone for long. And took a long swing of her wine bottle, leaving it dry.

Foreign electric rap—or whatever the noise was categorized these days—blared from her speakers. A malnourished Russian model friend of hers had loaded it on her iPod. Everyone left her something, a stain to remember them by. Dan most of all. In the end she was left to contemplate if the remains were to her liking, or merely things she tolerated.

She closed her eyes and her mind wandered upon those lines. She thought of Dan, of their little wedding. It had been everything he had wanted. Everything she thought she had wanted. It was then that the nausea hit.

Serena ran to the toilet.

It was a whole hour later she emerged. Staggering, but in somewhat better shape. She had vomited twice, once before her bath and a second time during. But she had dozed off once, and woken fresh and in slightly better shape since the sun had set.

It was three days before her expected guest would arrive. She had a publicity shoot that morning for her tell all book, which she herself had written, though she was certain massive edits had been made. The cover included her legs, bare, stretching for years. A ringmaster's hat was the sole piece of anything she had to cover her bits, and her arms. Her editor had thought it fitting. As did her PR personnel.

That day Serena had chosen a silk number that came in rose-gold, tiny and slinky. She had been gifted black leather heels with a military flavor, and a green leather jacket she felt would do the shoes justice. It would be a long day, but she took comfort in the not so subtle message the pieces would convey in the paparazzi shots of her that were bound to reach home.

Five hours of screaming fans—mostly girls slathered on with more make-up than all that was available in the mac bag she had brought with her from New York—and questions lacking in variety spoken in many levels of broken English later, Serena returned to her suite. She slumped onto the sofa closest to the door and just about fell asleep with no intention of ordering room service. But it would not be.

A knock. A louder knock. Pounding. And her name being called by just about the most persistent person she knew.

"Carter," Serena grumbled, hanging on to the doorframe for support. She glared at him while he, of course, sported his usual smirk. Though the frown lines on his forehead suggested he was less than pleased with her at the moment.

"You drag me all the way to Tokyo from Qatar and keep me at the door for twenty minute because your lazy, pretty, pampered little backside can't be bothered to let me in?"

"Pretty much."

He pushed past her, tossed his modestly sized suitcase aside, and went to lounge upon the same sofa she had occupied.

Serena rolled her eyes and banged the door shut. "Good to see you too."

Carter unbuttoned his blazer and shifted for comfort. His eyes caught hers and he raised his brows. "Are you going to get me a drink?"

"Get yourself a drink," she said and dropped down next to him.

"I came all the way here because you insisted that you _needed _me. Which reminds me," he turned his head, tilting it to one side to mirror hers. "Aren't you married?"

"Yeah. Married."

Serena looked away.

She decided she would get him a drink. Fully furnished meant fully loaded. She staggered in her heels and slopped scotch onto the side table as she poured them both drinks.

"Thanks beautiful," Carter murmured, glancing at her appreciatively.

She had noted him watching. She was certain he had asked her to get him that drink just to ogle her legs. But she knew what he was like when she invited him—begged him, in truth.

"Seven months," Carter said. He clinked their crystals together and drank with a soft sigh.

"The first three were enjoyable," she said.

She crossed her legs and turned slightly to face Carter. His navy blazer was well-cut and expensive looking, his tan trousers and gleaming white oxford were in better shape than she would expect from one who had just arrived off a plane. His unruly hair of course told an entirely different story. Serena shook her head, holding back a smile, and failing.

"What is it?" Carter said in a bored drawl. He was given away by the light flush that spread across his cheeks.

"Armani?" Serena sniffed the air around him, drawing close and bringing her nose near his neck.

She felt his fingers in her hair, and brushed her lips to his warm skin, pecking it lightly.

"Serge Lutens," Carter said.

She drew her head up and looked into his eyes. He wasn't going to ask. He would not bombard her with questions, neediness, guilt. He was just there. Her friend. The lover most expert with her body. And hell, his scent was heaven.

"Not here," Serena whispered when his hand grasped her waist, bunching the silk. "My bed's been criminally underused."

Carter muttered something unintelligible and his hand went to her ass.

She was on top of him. Her dress left her breasts bare. Her hair bunched in his grasp so he could devour her neck, and his mouth descended from there, reaching her nipple at just the right moment.

He always knew the right moment.

They did eventually make it to her bed. They used it all night. Consumed a fair bit of alcohol and room service. And re-emerged into society three days later.

She wore a short blue trench and orange heels. Her black and gold mini beneath only just covered her ass, but she had worn grey stockings, much to Carter's protests.

After a morning of shopping, mostly for Carter who complained about her wrecking the few shirts he had brought, they stopped for lunch at a western place serving the biggest burgers Serena had seen in a long time. It was a miracle neither got ketchup on their clothes. Though Carter had near miss with Tabasco. Later they went for coffee and ended up seated at a table with a blond couple from California. Both were obviously blond per bottle.

"My wife," Carter explained, pulling Serena down onto his lap.

"How long has it been?" The guy said, patting his wife's scrawny leg under the tight dark denim. He had rather unattractive burly hands. So unlike Carter's.

"No more than a month," his wife said, quickly before Carter could. "Look at them smiling. No one smiles that way after the first month."

"Three years," Carter said.

"And a month," Serena added.

She winked at the couple and grabbed onto Carter's head, pulling him in a loud, wet kiss, tossing her gold curls for added effect.

The bottle blond hooted.

"What brings you here?" she said, once the macking had stopped.

"Spur of the moment thing," Carter said. The hand that hung loosely at her hip traveled to her lower abdomen. "And we're expecting. We thought a vacation was in order before the execution date."

Serena barely heard the congratulations and well wishes. She feigned a proud smile, but her head spun and she was terrified she would burst into tears. Gasping suddenly she sprang to her feet.

"Morning sickness," she muttered and quickly scampered to the bathroom.

She reemerged clammy but calm.

Carter was waiting for her by the bathroom doors.

His eyes caught hers. They asked questions she had no intention to answer.

They took a taxi to her suite and didn't speak for hours.

Scotch was poured. Clothes were torn. Exceptionally high thread-count sheets were dampened with sweat, and likely other fluids.

It must've been past midnight when Serena woke to use the bathroom. She then replenished her dehydrated body with two large glasses of water. Her absence or the noise she made rummaging about woke Carter. He joined her at the counter, his boxers bunched up on one side.

She filled her glass once more and handed it to him.

Some while later they sat together by the window seat, snacking on Cheetos and continued drinking ice water.

"What's wrong, Serena?" Carter said softly, sucking on his orange forefinger.

"I'm still married," she said. She stuck a bunch of Cheetos in her mouth and munched, not particularly eager to elaborate.

"I know. Your _husband _is distraught according to Waldorf. Or Bass. Whatever she calls herself."

Serena nodded and stuck another handful in her mouth.

"I assume there is reason you've cut communications with everybody."

Serena swallowed painfully. She coughed and gulped down most of the water left in her glass.

"Do you intend to reconcile with Humphrey?"

Carter's eyes were dark in the dim light. But they held a soft glint, like calm waters.

Serena shook her head a hair. "I can't, Carter."

He nodded.

He tossed a Cheeto down her cleavage.

Serena laughed, shrugging until the thing slipped out the other end of the charmeuse slip. Then smushed a handful of Cheetos on his face.

From thereon the night passed as all the others had.

It would two more nights before Serena woke next to Carter, tangled in damp sheets and sweaty limbs, from a horrible nightmare she could barely recall moments after waking. But her immediate reaction was shock. She trembled and before being able to get a hold of herself began to sob uncontrollably.

It would not be until the next morning that she registered Carter caring for her, smoothing her hair and rubbing her back. Making certain she had tissues, and water. Even making her tea, and when she refused that, pouring her a glass of wine instead.

"Morning beautiful," Carter said cheerfully.

Serena very much doubted she looked anything near beautiful that morning. She hadn't even looked at her reflection. Her whole face felt numb and her eyes burned. She could imagine how swollen and blotchy she must be. She hadn't bothered brushing her hair and pulled on one of Carter's shirts. It was missing a few buttons.

He was at the stove, actually making an omelet. He had sliced peppers, mushrooms, sausages, and onions. He even made toast.

She was surprised he had not just ordered room service.

And she said just that.

"I went for a walk. Then saw a grocery store. I don't know, I like the smell of food." Then he pointed at the coffee cups. "Americano, extra cream."

Serena grinned and thanked him, settling down at the counter.

The omelet brought her to life. It was steaming hot and spicy thanks to the excess jalapeños. Just as Serena liked hers.

"Carter, I…" She took a deep breath and forced herself to continue. "I cheated on Dan. Just over four months after the wedding. And then again, a week later."

He buttered her some toast and placed them on her plate.

"It happens," he said with a smile, and picked a toast up teasing her mouth with it.

She nibbled at the edge and snatched it from him.

"I know it happens," she said.

She stared at the toast, deliberating. He covered her hand with his and squeezed it gently.

"Whatever it is, fuck him. Who is he to dictate anything about you. Things happen Serena. People drift apart. High school romances turn out to make shit marriages."

Serena nodded.

"But there is more, Carter. I was gifted with something extra," she said, quietly.

"You mean—you're—are you?"

She glanced at him, noting his ashen face. She could just see him running through the copious amounts of alcohol they had consumed in the past couple of days. She almost smiled. Almost, if it didn't hurt so much.

"No, I eh, I handled it."

Carter exhaled and attempted at a smile.

"Do you know whose it was?"

She blinked. "It wasn't Dan's. We hadn't—he was busy with his new book and I was traveling, doing PR for my release…"

"Did you tell—"

"No," she said curtly. "No, no I strung Nate along enough as it is. I didn't want to hurt him. I couldn't."

Carter made a sound deep in his throat at the mention of Nate, and cleared it.

"Archibald? Again?"

Serena gave him a look and he blushed, just a hint of it. But maybe it was from the kitchen packing extra heat. Or the jalapeño he had just bitten into.

"I can't go back to Dan. I don't want to tell him—he's just going to put it down to me being Serena van der Woodsen. And put it in his next book." Serena shut her eyes, and forced them open again.

Carter's mouth curled to one side, though he tried to hide it.

"It's not funny Carter. If there is anything worst than divorce it's knowing you fucked up. And knowing everyone else will know every gory detail." Serena bit into the toast and chewed slowly. "I can't even tell Blair. She has her own life in a disarray. Her company. The little one. Chuck. And according to tabloid gossip there is another one on the way…"

"Good for Bass."

Serena glared at him.

"What?" he said.

"Can't you be a friend and tell me what to do? I can give you a hat if it helps, pretend to be Blair for five minutes."

"I'll give you advice if you keep the hat."

Serena stuck out her hand and he shook it. Of course he snuck a kiss from her as well. But only a kiss.

"I was shocked to hear you married Humphrey. Archibald maybe I could understand, but what the hell do you have in common with that douche?"

"He's not a douche, he's just…from Brooklyn."

Carter snorted.

"If my being here doesn't already proclaim my affections, here it is: I love you Serena van der Woodsen. I have for a ridiculously long time. You can chase after little boys like Humphrey. Archibald. Whoever. But I think deep down you know that I'm your only equal."

Serena stared at him in disbelief.

"Carter, we do this all the time. You never stick around…"

"Stick around when I know you're dying to try another shot with Humphrey? No. And no I wont hang around if you aren't absolutely sure there is no future there."

Serena bit her lip. "There is no future for me and Dan."

"Are you sure?"

She caught Carter's eye and smiled, it was sad but also carried a sense of relief. "When I found out I was pregnant knowing it wouldn't be Dan's was such a relief. I realized I would be more willing to have Nate's baby than I was Dan's. And that's—it's when knew it was over. For good."

"What about Archibald?"

Serena shrugged. "Nate is my blanket. When we need escape we end up together. I wouldn't leave you for him. But if I leave you I'll probably end up with him. Er, _on_ him."

Carter raised his brow. His finger's ghosted over her cheek before they withdrew and he settled down on the stool in front of her. "Leave me? Are you—do you intend on starting something with me?"

Serena scrunched her nose. "It was a hypothetical _you_. Sorry, Carter."

The look on his face was priceless.

She stretched the collar of his t-shirt when she pulled him to her for a kiss.

"Of course _you_, Carter," she murmured between kisses. "I want you. But I don't want to jump into anything just yet."

He laughed and kissed her for a long while. His hands roaming, but making no attempt at undressing her.

"I believe you're maturing, Serena van der Woodsen."

Serena laughed. "It's a possibility."

* * *

Serena had her lawyers handle the divorce. She scheduled Skype meetings and even braved one with Dan.

He stared at her the way he had that one time in high school when she stole the key to the school pool. Only it was a hundred times more intense.

"How did I not know we would end up here?" he said.

"You knew Dan," she said. "You always knew."

"A self-fulfilling prophecy?" He laughed bitterly.

"A high school dream," she said.

It was a smooth affair. Serena secretly thanked her mother for her insistence on an airtight prenup. It had made everything so easy. But of course, marriage and divorce were matters of expertise for Lily.

She and Carter celebrated with their new friends from California who were quite overtly alarmed by Serena's drinking during her "pregnancy".

"False alarm," Serena explained.

"False alarm." Carter raised his wine glass. "To new chances."

Serena caught his eye and grinned. "To new chances."


End file.
